Who Ya Gonna Call
by here4thereylo
Summary: Rey finally gets to follow her dreams and work with paranormal spirits. Her first job as one of Luke's Ghoulbusters is with a goofy poltergeist named Han. He has unfinished business, including playing matchmaker for his son Ben.


Ever since Rey was a kid, she knew she wanted to be a Ghostbuster when she grew up. It didn't matter that everyone said ghosts and spirits weren't real. That the movie was just a "cult classic." She believed in the paranormal, and knew there was a need to fill in the community, regardless if people around her knew it or not. It was her calling.

She got a degree in psychology, and then a Master's in Paranormal Studies from Thomas Francis University. She had met Finn during her online coursework, happy to find another kindred spirit. Or conspiracy theorist, depending on who you spoke to. They had been group project partners on several assignments, and the friendship grew naturally. They realized they both lived in the same place, and they became inseparable. After graduation, they moved into a tiny apartment together, and went about finding employment.

Except it wasn't easy. Damn near impossible, actually. Turns out paranormal sciences did not cultivate a useful, practical skill set that employers wanted to see on a resume. The duo scoured the internet for weeks, while both working in a dingy italian restaurant a block from their apartment. They tried, with undeterred enthusiasm, to find something useful with their degrees. The time spent not searching or working was spent talking about their favorite subject: ghosts. They never tired of swapping stories of their first paranormal encounter, best haunted spots in the US, and everything in between.

One day, after six long weeks diving deep into pages and pages of google search results, Rey finally found something. It was the sketchiest webpage in existence, looking like it had been made in 2004 and not updated since then.

"Luke Skywalker's Ghoulbusters," she read out loud, perking up from the stupor she had fallen into, clicking on link after link of dead ends. "Hey, Finn! Get in here!" While she waited, she perused the site, astounded by the amount of ClipArt one webpage could have. She heard the footfalls of her roommate get louder as he approached her bedroom, waltzing right in and flopping on her bed next to her, a bag of white cheddar popcorn in his hand.

"What's up, Peanut?" He asked, digging his hand into the bag and shoving a large handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"No cheese dust on my bedspread!" Rey teased, reaching in the bag herself and tossing a few of the popped kernels into her own mouth. "Take a look at this site I found."

"Holy ClipArt," Finn murmured, wiping his hand off on his jeans. "Rey, you can't be serious. This looks like some twelve year old put this together a decade ago as a prank. What kind of name even is 'Skywalker,' sounds completely made up."

Rey shoved him playfully. "I know the website doesn't look like much, but I checked. He's listed on Google Maps, with 4.5 stars and testimonials."

"Don't get ahead of yourself there, Rey. There's only two reviews and they look like they were both for spirits of old pets." He shook his head in disbelief, knowing Rey had already made up her mind for the pair of them. "Ghoulbusters...sounds like they're trying too hard."

That's how Rey and Finn found themselves in Luke's employ, a small office in a run down part of town. It was...nothing like Rey had imagined. So far, it was a decent amount of paperwork and a lot of cold calling. Apparently Luke thought that was the best method of advertising, since it was free. They had been calling schools, libraries, businesses, and museums in the area, asking if they had any needs for poltergeist prevention, detection, or removal. When she wasn't immediately hung up on, she was laughed at.

Finally, one day, Rey was waving her pen in front of her face in boredom when Luke burst through the door with unabashed enthusiasm.

"I've got a job for you, Rey!" His crystal blue eyes shined with excitement.

"I'm not cleaning out the fridge again, Luke. All your milk had turned green, and you don't pay me enough to deal with that more than once in a lifetime." Rey put down the pen she had been playing with and looked up at her boss. He waved her off.

"No, a real job this time. Some guy from a car dealership just called freaking out about some poltergeist haunting a car he has on display. Says it's really freaking the customers out and is bad for business."

"And you want me to take care of it? Don't you want to do this yourself?" Rey asked in disbelief. No way Luke would want to give up the first ever poltergeist encounter the business had seen, at least in Rey's history at the Company. But he was waving her protests off with one hand, a suspicious twinkle in his eye.

"This will be perfect for you. It's just the consult anyway, maybe you'll be able to meet the spirit if they're willing to come out. And you've got my number, if you really need me. But I have a feeling you're exactly what this ghost needs."

"I don't think this is gonna go the way you think, but sure. I'll do it." Rey conceded. Despite her inherent skepticism, she had to admit she was really excited to potentially get to interact with her first ghost. She could tell everyone ghosts were real! That her schooling wasn't a waste! Rey had a little extra skip in her step as she made her way out of the office and to the company car, a terrible knockoff of the Ectomobile from the original Ghostbusters film. At least this one wasn't a hearse.

Forty-five minutes later, Rey pulled up to her destination, a sleek new Ford dealership in the area. There were balloons and sale signs everywhere, complete with those whacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tube men that danced in the wind. Rey observed the premises from her car, before shutting off the ignition, getting out and heading towards the showroom. On her short jaunt from the vehicle to the front door, no less than three salesmen approached her, variations of the same sales gambit to get her in a "new car today!" She ignored all of them, walking inside and asking the greeter to speak with the General Manager.

A middle aged portly man walked out from the back office after a couple minutes, coming to greet Rey with a sweaty hand and an appraising look.

"I talked on the phone with an old guy, who are you?" The man, Steve, asked without preamble.

"I'm Rey, one of Luke's associates. You told Luke there have been paranormal anomalies on the premises recently?"

"Yeah, follow me. I don't usually believe in ghosts or any of that crap, but there are just weird noises and strange coincidences that keep happening around one of my display cars, it's scaring away good business." He walked away from the entrance to the showroom, beckoning for Rey to follow.

She followed him around to the other end of the showroom, approaching a fully custom race car. Rey placed it immediately.

"This is Han Solo's Ford Falcon. The famous racecar driver! How did you manage to get this?"

Steve scuffed his heel against the ground. "When he died, his estate got held up in probate court. Still is, as far as I know. I know one of the race team managers, Plutt, so while things get decided...well it's on display here that's really it."

Rey eyed him skeptically, but didn't comment. That wasn't the point of her visit, and at that very moment the headlights of the Falcon started blinking furiously, alternating from right to left, and at the same time the horn started honking to the tune of 'La Cucaracha.' Steve looked around, a flicker of fear passing over his features, then marched up to the car and started slapping the hood. The horn's tune got louder as a result, and browsing customers started staring at the commotion. Rey intercepted the manager, gripping his wrist to get him to stop assaulting the car.

"Sir. If there's really a spirit--"

"Poltergeist. It's wrecking too much havoc for it to just be some harmless...thing."

"...Sure, poltergeist. Either way, being aggressive will get you nowhere. If you'll allow me, I'd like to camp out tonight, observe the activity, and report back to you in the morning. I'll come back around closing time so that I don't attract more attention." She slid a small business card out of her pocket, handing it over to Steve. "Should you need anything between now and when I get back, just call me." She sauntered out of the dealership, the manager staring at her retreating form, headlights still flashing like disco lights. The horn emitted a loud, long honk, and Steve jumped in surprise, muttering and shaking his head as he stormed back to his office.

Rey returned around 8 p.m., packed with a sleeping bag and provisions. Finn had offered to come with her, but she wanted to do this on her own. The manager let her in, led her to the service department waiting room where the comfiest chairs were (spoiler alert, they weren't that comfy), and locked up behind her. She settled in, booting up her iPad to watch Netflix while she waited for any paranormal activity to spike. Luke had given her a small handheld tool that was meant to read for such activity, but Rey figured it was bullshit and would just use her intuition.

Several hours passed uneventfully, Rey devouring several episodes of Parks and Rec without interruption. She was in the middle of her fifth episode, the one with Lil' Sebastian's memorial, when she heard a crash a distance away from her, near the part of the showroom where the Falcon sat. She paused her episode, placed her iPad down, and with silent movements, got up from her spot sprawled out across three chairs and advanced through the service department lobby back towards the showroom. She was thankful for her choice of show; she would much rather have "5,000 Candles in the Wind" stuck in her head than a horror movie theme song as she crept through the dimly lit ghost town of the dealership.

She turned the corner and, for all her bravado and excitement, was startled by what she saw. The driver side door to the Falcon had been flung open, and she could see a leg sticking out underneath the door. The pant leg and shoe, from what she could see from her vantage point facing the front of the Falcon, was an odd, shimmering translucent silver color. Her eyes traveled up from the ground to peer through the windshield, and her eyes locked with the man in the seat. Well, not a man. He was...definitely an incorporeal being, but had more solidity and shape than she expected an a ghost to have.

She froze, unwilling to move and spook the poltergeist into disappearing. She would never be able to talk to it (him?) if she couldn't manage to keep him here. They continued their stare-off, neither blinking or moving. Until, finally, unexpectedly, the spirit rolled its eyes and got out of the car. He shut the door and began walking towards her, and all Rey could think of was how can he close the door, how does his hand not go right through it. He seemed to change his mind after a few steps, retreating back and sitting on the hood of the car.

"Aren't you a little young to be here after hours?" He asked, the full image of cool and casual on display as he flashed a smirk at her. Rey knew immediately, after getting a good look at him and hearing him speak, that this was the ghost of Han Solo. She adored watching him race as a kid growing up, and had been devastated to hear of his passing just a few months ago. She never imagined getting to meet him when he was alive, let alone now.

"Aren't you a little dead to be here at all?" She shot back, immediately mortified at what spilled out of her mouth. The response she received was just a hearty laugh.

"You got guts, kid. I like you. Now what are you doing here?"

"Trying to figure out what kind of chaos you're creating," she deadpanned. Han laughed again. "The dealership says you're scaring away business."

"Well, he stole my car and now it's here, and I want it back. How did he even get his grubby hands on it?"

"He told me he got it from some guy named Plutt." She wasn't sure how it was possible, but she saw ghost-Han's eyes actually darken at the sound of that name. "I take it you know him?"

"Skeezeball if I've ever met one. He, the Irving Boys, and Ducain were always out to get me." Han shook his head, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off the hood of the car. "Listen, kid--"

"Rey," she cut him off before he could continue. "The name's Rey."

"Rey, then. Ya gotta help me out here. This is the fastest car in the galaxy," Rey rolled her eyes at that because, yeah okay the entire galaxy , while Han continued, "it doesn't belong wasting away in a dumb showroom."

"Well, I can't just drive it out of here if that's what you're suggesting." Rey replied, in disbelief of the very conversation she was having with this ghost. This dead guy wanted her to steal a car in the dead of night and take it...somewhere?

"Well why the hell not? Act first, think later, usually works for me."

Rey snorted and just gave him a look. "Yeah, worked out great for you every time I'm sure."

"Listen kid. You got a mouth on ya. I'm all for it. Which is why I think you'll help me. This car belongs to my son now, it needs to get to him."

Son? She had no idea Han Solo had procreated.

"And why hasn't he come and gotten it yet?" She asked, intrigued by the new twist of events.

"Gods if I know. I'm dead, remember? It was supposed to be in my will. Nothing's gone to plan, so I don't think he even knows yet that it's his now. And I'm desperate for him to have it. I wasn't always the best dad out there, but we shared a love for this baby." He patted the hood of the car lovingly.

Rey softened a little at the confession, definitely relating to the unnamed offspring of the famous racecar driver standing ( why wasn't he floating like she expected ghosts to do? ) in front of her. "I still don't understand why it has to be me," she managed to argue.

"I mean, I guess it doesn't have to be you, but you seem like someone who gets things done around here. And you can see me, you're the first. That's why I've been messing around with the car, can't get anyone's attention. Plus, the more I talk to you...I'dlikeyoutomeetmysonIthinkyouwouldbegoodforhim." He'd mumbled that last part, and Rey hadn't made out any of the words.

"What was that last bit again?"

"You heard me, sweetheart," he hedged.

"Nah, I don't think I did." Rey rebutted, a glint in her eye. Whatever it was he said, she would make him say it again.

"All right, fine. You should meet Ben. He could use someone like you in his life. Poor kid's an emotional mess with some anger issues."

"And why me?" She prodded again.

"You're a looker with a backbone, kid. And you remind me of his mother. Here, take out your phone." Rey paused, but obliged his request and pulled her phone from her back pocket. Han recited a phone number, Rey typing it into her phone and adding 'Ben Solo' as the contact name. She stubbornly avoided his comments on her likeness to Leia Organa, focusing on the numbers on her screen.

"You realize there's no guarantee I'm going to actually call him, right? I don't think I can do anything about the location of your car. But I can warn you if you keep blasting that horn in the middle of the day, we're going to have a problem. Can you try to keep a lid on the trolling?" The poltergeist had the gall to smirk at that.

"No guarantees, Princess, but I'll do what I can. Call Ben, he'll help. And then hopefully you can help him. Now kid, I'm off to wherever it is I go when I'm not here. Take care." And he dissipated to nothing right before Rey's eyes.

Rey did not call Ben.

The next morning she had met with the general manager, assured him that she would work on expelling the ghost from the dealership, and to let her know if there were any more incidents. She left her stakeout, ready for a hot shower and a nap in a real bed.

She spent the next few days back in the office of Luke's Ghoulbusters - seriously, she was going to recommend a name change because how much of a knockoff was that - looking into Han Solo's estate. Probate records were public, so she started there and soon found herself deep down the rabbit hole of Han Solo's life. His illustrious career, his public marital problems, his estrangement from his son. Her interest consumed her. Why on earth did he want her to contact his son, when they hadn't gotten along in however many years? If he wanted the car to be gifted to his son, why didn't the dummy just write a better will? He surely had enough legal counsel to advise such an action.

The office was quiet that day. Finn was out running errands, and Luke was mysteriously absent. He didn't seem to ever tell them his work schedule, which Rey thought was eccentric. She figured he was probably trying to find the spirits themselves, instead of waiting for a call. Though, she surmised, this call was probably the first legitimate one the Company had ever received. She kept reading, deeply entrenched in an article about Han's 2003 surprise win at the Daytona 500, a photo of him, Leia, and their then-fourteen year old son Ben standing around the large trophy. She was studying Ben's teenage features, trying to guess what he would look like now, when--

"Have you called him yet?"

Rey jumped out of her seat a mile high and spun around to find the source of the voice. Ghost Han was standing right next to her, peering over her shoulder at the article. "Whatcha reading there, kid?"

Rey clutched a hand to her chest, trying to calm her breathing. She didn't normally get spooked so easily, but she normally didn't hear voices right behind her when she knew she was alone. She quickly clicked to the desktop, knowing the damage had been done and Han had seen her internet sleuthing, and turned to face him.

"No, I haven't called him yet."

"Why the hell not? My poor pride and joy is just wasting away at that kriffing soulless place, and you're reading gossip mumbo jumbo about me?"

"It's not that easy. I was doing some research into your proceedings. I'm not sure why you didn't have a will, it's going to be tied up for ages so even if I did call Ben."

"Whaddya mean, I don't have a will? That was one thing Leia DID make me do. We didn't agree on a whole lot, but making sure our stuff went to the right people when we weren't around anymore was important to us both. That's why you gotta call Ben."

Rey rolled her eyes. "I will look more into your will, and see what I can dig up. That's not really in my job description, but if it helps you…pass on, or at least stop terrorizing innocent people trying to buy a Ford Focus, I'll do what I can. I don't need help."

Han huffed out a breath of annoyance, throwing his hands up in the air and letting them fall back down to slap at his sides. The slap made a noise as hands connected with skin, and Rey couldn't help but wonder again what kind of ghost is he and make her second guess everything she knew about ghosts. Having never encountered one, despite all the schooling and research, she assumed all spirits were transparent, intangible in a way that one could pass their hand directly through their body and not meet resistance. She knew Han wouldn't know, so she let it go.

"Suit yourself, kid." He turned to walk away, disappearing again into thin air after only a couple steps away from Rey's desk.

Han visited her no less than four more times over the next week, practically every other day, needling her to call his son. He caught her in the most random situations; while she was on a run, halfway through scooping out a bowl of ice cream, fully zoned into an episode of Criminal Minds. The fourth time, she had been drying her hair, her head flipped upside down to dry the back of her hair. She flipped her head right side up and saw his reflection in the mirror, and let out a squeal at the sight. She shouldn't be surprised by him anymore, but he had a way of creeping up on her at the most inopportune moments.

"No, I haven't. And, yes, I know what you're going to ask." She walked out of the bathroom and into the living room of hers and Finn's apartment, an oversized couch taking up the majority of the small space. Rey plopped down, determined to ignore the nuisance of a ghost and carry on with her life. He came down and sat right next to her, not allowing any ability to distance herself from him.

"Why are you so adamant I call him? He can't do anything about the legal system. Also, why don't you just...go visit him? If you want him to get your car back, go talk to him about it. I'm sure he would help."

"I wish it were that easy, kid. I don't think I could just show up at his place. I want to but...I need your help. I mean, I'd be lyin' if I said my requests were completely innocent. The will is, well whatever, I'm sure Leia can find it. I...just call him. Please."

Rey sighed loudly. She had been resisting for over a week now, with no plausible cause for her not to make this phone call. She had to admit, she was intrigued to meet the elusive son Han kept probing her to contact. After that article she found from the Daytona 500, he had disappeared from the news stories and gossip rags, and she couldn't find him on any social media. And she felt that she had gotten to know Han pretty well through all his incessant visits, the smarmy bastard. If this was what he wanted, she could at least give him a call, though she wasn't quite sure how she was going to explain her reason for calling. 'Hey, your dead dad showed up at a car dealership and wouldn't leave me alone until I picked up the phone' didn't really seem like the greatest introduction.

"Fine, I'll call him." She rolled her eyes and shifted to look at Han, but he was gone. Again.

She sucked in a deep breath, and picked up her phone.

Rey finally called Ben.


End file.
